


12

by melancholy_scorpio1



Series: Timothee Chalamet - Kiss Prompts [3]
Category: American (US) Actor RPF
Genre: << Blink and you'll miss it, Alcohol, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29462025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholy_scorpio1/pseuds/melancholy_scorpio1
Summary: A collection of blurbs and short fics inspired by kiss prompts requested on Tumblr.Kiss Prompt 12 - Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Reader, Timothée Chalamet/You
Series: Timothee Chalamet - Kiss Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163999
Kudos: 1





	12

It’s your birthday, your first birthday with Timothée as your boyfriend. You wake in his apartment, after a fairly eventful night (😉😉) and it’s quite… peaceful. Abnormally peaceful.

Tim isn’t normally one for sleeping in - he’s usually an early bird, often going for a run, showering, dressing and making breakfast all before you stir. But today? You’re the first one awake, greeted by light snores and the weight of his arm around your body.

It’s not too bad. You lay there just watching him for a while, tracing your fingers lightly over the skin of his shoulder, pushing his hair away from his face. Then you start dotting kisses all over his face, his forehead, his eyes, his lips, his nose, and his heavy eyes eventually open, paired with a soft smile.

 _Mornin’ baby,_ he says, with such adoration and care that’s too much to process so early in the morning. _’m sorry I didn’t wake up earlier. Still tired after last night._

You try not to frown. You try not to show you’re bothered by something. When he rolls out of bed, telling you the things he needs to do today, he doesn’t show any signs he’s remembered it’s your birthday. Even when your phone doesn’t shut up with notifications from family members and friends messaging you he doesn’t question it. He’s well and truly forgotten.

It’s not even been a year since you started dating him, though. Did he even _know_ your birth date? Had you even told him? Maybe it’s your fault. But you _remember_ telling him. You remember him asking on one of earlier dates. Has he just forgotten?

You don’t blame him, if he has. He’s had a lot on - and you don’t even _like_ birthdays that much. You let it slide; it’s not his fault.

The day pans out normally. He does the food shop, visits that butchers he likes. He mentions something about takeaway later, but you don’t read too much into it.

You thought you’d settled down for the night, cuddled under a blanket in your pyjamas by 6PM, until Timmy asks you to redress and join him for a walk. Surprise is the wrong word, curiousity probably covers it better. You keep it cosy, having no reason to dress up, and walk hand in hand to nowhere in particular.

 _Fancy a late night drink?_ He suggests, gravitating towards the bar at the bottom of the same street your apartment is on. You’d follow him anywhere, truly, and that doesn’t change; he guides you through the doors, hand never leaving yours.

 _Surprise!_ Friends, family, neighbours; the whole room decorated with banners and balloons, a table full of food beside a smaller table full of champagne, or something similar. Bright faces full of wide grins and squinted eyes, laughter and chatter fills the room while you, having been completely clueless, don’t know what to say.

 _Timothée I thought you’d forgotten!_ Famous last words. In fact, he hadn’t forgotten anything; he’d even arranged for your best friend to being along a nice dress and makeup, knowing full well you wouldn’t know to dress up. He promises he has presents at his apartment, though you don’t care about the gifts.

 _Of course I didn’t forget, love_ he says, as if it’s the most stupid idea he’s ever heard. _You honestly think I’d forgotten?_

You drag him away from the party once it’s in full swing, slipping away to the corridor between the main bar and the toilets. The lights are dim, some of them flicker and one has completely given up trying, but it makes the corner you push him into darkly lit.

 _Thank you baby_ , you mumble, before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. Short, sweet and loving, it leaves you wanting more - but you don’t have time, you can already hear people asking for you.

 _No need to thank me. It’s your birthday, silly_. Another peck, a smirk and a promising look, and you’re gone again, dancing to your favourite songs and drinking your favourite alcohol.


End file.
